


i will be chasing a starlight

by tonberryshortcake



Series: you can follow me [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, I’m such a sap I gave myself cavities, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Post-Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, Starlight Celebration (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonberryshortcake/pseuds/tonberryshortcake
Summary: In which G’raha Tia decides to surprise his Warrior for Starlight.**5.3 spoilers!**
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: you can follow me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072769
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	i will be chasing a starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Starlight, y’all ❤️

It’s been literal ages since he’s observed Starlight himself, having early on decided against importing Eorzean customs to Norvrandt, but seeing signs of celebration everywhere he turns has been enough to awaken dormant memories.

G’raha looks up at the lights and banners hanging over the merchants’ stalls as he walks hand-in-hand with Salena through the Sapphire Avenue Exchange, the marketplace adorned even with the odd Starlight Sentinel surrounded by wrapped twinkleboxes.

As far as he’s concerned, every day since he’s returned to the Source has been cause for celebration, but he’s always happy to have one more. 

As they continue their meandering path, G’raha feels a tug on his hand as Salena slows to a halt. She’s biting her lip, lost in thought, eyes on a stall to their left. He follows her line of sight to a vendor wrapping boxes of gold and jeweled trinkets with colored paper and ribbons.

“Something you’re interested in?” he asks, feigning only a casual level of interest. Even without plans to exchange gifts for the holiday, he can’t help but want to do something for her anyway.

“Hm?” He nods to the merchant, a russet ear quirked in question. “Oh, no, it’s not that. I actually crafted a music box just like that for a client once...” she adds absently. “No, I was just thinking I wish I could’ve done something more for you on your first Starlight back in Eorzea.”

The words warm him to his toes. “You do plenty for me, my love,” he says but she doesn’t look convinced. He gives a quick kiss to her temple. “And we’ll be in Mor Dhona the day of, right?”

“Oh, yes,” Salena snorts, resuming their walk. “Tataru will have our hides should we miss it.”

With the Scions finally returned to the Source, Tataru invited—some might argue commanded—the entire order and then some to attend a massive celebration at the Rising Stones. It wasn't entirely clear what would happen should someone fail to appear, but not one among them was willing to incur her wrath to find out.

“Then was there something else you had in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s silly,” Salena starts shyly, ducking her head. “I just have some little holiday traditions I would’ve liked to share with you—drinks, desserts, decorations, that kind of thing—but we’ve just been so busy. Ironically tomorrow I’ll be off helping Amh Garanjy in Gridania with _their_ festival preparations.”

G’raha squeezes her hand. “That’s quite alright. You do so much for others I should think it would be nice not having to labor over your own celebrations. I daresay Tataru is delighted to take on this particular task herself.” 

Salena squeezes his hand in return and chuckles. “Oh yes, it will undoubtedly be a riot. I remember her last party was for All Saints’ Wake. Everywhere you turned, the hall was plastered with some manner of spooky decor. She even invented her own cocktail for the occasion—it was this ghastly combination of flavored liqueurs...”

*

_Drinks, desserts, decorations…_

He’s still mulling over the words the next morning. 

Salena’s adventures—combat and crafting alike—have provided enough gil that she can put most material concerns from her mind. A far cry from the wandering thaumaturge he met those many years ago, hunting every mark she could find to pay for her next meal. Which begs the question: What to gift the woman who has it all, and then some?

He’s grateful for the breadcrumbs she’s dropped and in retrospect it seems so simple. 

She’s terror incarnate on the battlefield, burning down enemy squadrons and tearing Imperial forces asunder. Away from all of that though, she’s a creature of simple comforts—soft at heart, gracious and loving, and surprisingly domestic.

He’s nothing if not a caretaker, and fulfilling her wish of indulging in holiday traditions at home should be the perfect gesture.

Luckily Salena had left early that morning—well, happily delayed for a bit by wandering hands—but still early enough that G’raha has the greater part of the day to carry out his plan. 

The first thing he decides to tackle is the decorations. 

Easier said than done.

His initial cursory search of the cottage’s closets yields, well, _everything_. Just not what he’s looking for.

“Dear Gods,” he mutters to himself stumbling across yet another cupboard, this one, as far as he can tell, exclusively containing massive baskets of animal fleece alongside skeins of yarn and spools of thread in various states of completion. 

He shuts it and sighs, then snickers as he realizes this whole endeavor reminds him of his old study in the Crystal Tower.

He’s going to need professional help. 

Concluding her longtime retainer must have some idea of what holiday trimmings Salena owns, and where she keeps them, he requests Isabelle’s assistance via linkpearl who is luckily both nearby and available.

He’s still digging through a closet overflowing with bolts of fabric he can’t even begin to distinguish when he hears knocking. Grateful for the reprieve from his currently fruitless search— _how did Lyna ever manage with me sometimes?_ —he answers the door. He finds a tall, slender Elf—Elezen, he corrects himself— with light eyes and a lavender plait. She looks to be older in years, and she wears a warm and knowing expression.

“Good morning, sir. How may I be of service?” she asks with a formal, if flourished, bow. 

“Oh, no,” he says with a flush, shaking his head, “just G’raha Tia, please.”

“Yeah, Salena’s not big on honorifics either. I can see why she likes you,” she smirks, abandoning ceremony and standing straight again. “Well, G’raha Tia, what can I do for you?”

He leads her inside, offering her a cup of coffee as he briefs her on the day’s plan. He barely has to explain before Isabelle eagerly jumps aboard.

“Ah, blessings to you, child,” she says accepting the proffered mug and taking a seat at the kitchen table. “I was afraid I’d see this place go another season without a bit of merriment.”

G’raha takes a sip of his tea and quirks an ear in question.

She narrows her eyes and her voice takes on a serious tone. “I’ve been watching that girl run herself ragged for years now. Can’t tell you the last time I seen someone go out of their way to do something like this for her.”

“Ah, yes, well I’m trying at any rate.” He gives her a sheepish smile and shrug. “I’m having great difficulty locating anything however.”

Isabelle’s eyes glitter in amusement. “She’s a bit of a pack rat, aye.” 

G’raha learns that Salena originally met Isabelle during her time in Ishgard. Disgusted with the behavior of the nobles in the house she had been serving following the end of the Dragonsong War, the Elezen followed the Warrior of Light back to Ul’dah to offer her services to adventurers such as herself, though naturally Salena ended up her favorite client.

He also learns that not only is there a logic to the chaos—“I swear, child, she ends up using every last scrap,”—but that selfsame chaos serves just about every cause in Eorzea. Isabelle describes her regular errands delivering donations to not one but _two_ orphanages on Salena’s behalf and his head spins at the new information. Honestly, how does he still have so many gaps in his knowledge of her?

G’raha, who at this point is no longer surprised to learn of the existence of yet another storage area, follows Isabelle to a shed behind the cottage, and the pair manage to dig out a great deal of holiday items. He’s desperately glad for the second pair of hands along with the stories of how Salena amassed such a strange collection of seasonal furniture and attire.

“Wait, there was a chocobo _in_ the choir?”

“Aye, child. None of the stagehands were eager to clean up after that performance.”

They work well into the afternoon until every box is emptied and no surface is left untouched. With the final ornament hung, G’raha steps back and surveys their handiwork with pride.

Isabelle turns to him with a twinkle in her eye, the corner of her mouth turned up. “I’d say the place is sufficiently decked out, wouldn’t you?”

“Indeed.” He bites his lips nervously. “It’s not too much, is it?”

“Nah, she’ll love it. What’s next?”

Next G’raha decides is “drinks and desserts,” though he confesses he’s at a bit of a loss with such a broad category. 

“I know just the thing,” Isabelle says with a snap and walks over to one of the many overflowing bookcases. G’raha chuckles to himself at the once again familiar sight of shelves heavily burdened—so much is different, yet so much remains the same.

He watches as she runs her fingers carefully over the spines, grinning when she finds her target. She pulls a leatherbound book from the shelf and hands it over, tapping the cover. “This gem is full of Salena’s own recipes. Girl’s got a sweet tooth like you wouldn’t believe and will happily dig into anything, but if we’re talking Starlight treats, I guarantee she’ll be thrilled with spiced cider and roll cake.”

G’raha fancies himself a passable culinarian and hums in acknowledgment as he leafs through the pages of the journal. He smiles at all of the notes in the margins written in Salena’s loopy script.

Confident he can carry out the next step of the plan on his own, he profusely thanks Isabelle for her invaluable help and entertaining company. 

“Always happy to be of service; ring me any time,” she says with a smile, then pauses before moving to the door, laying a hand on G’raha’s shoulder. “I was serious about what I said earlier,” she tells him. “It’s about time she had someone treat her right. She’s lucky to have you.” G’raha ducks his head, hiding a shy smile. “Happy Starlight, lad.”

It’s sometimes hard for him to think so, but he hopes to live up to Isabelle's words all the same. He sets to work.

Another couple hours have passed in a blur when he proudly slides a decadent chocolate roll cake filled with strawberries and cream in the icebox—looking incredibly delicious, if he does say so himself—before turning to give the mirror apple juice gently simmering with spices on the stovetop a stir. 

Drinks, desserts, and decoration complete, G’raha decides he needs one more thing. Something special, something that feels like him. He sits at the kitchen table drumming his fingers and lost in thought, smiling as a novel idea finally comes to him.

*

It’s nightfall by the time he hears the telltale sound of someone teleporting to the aetheryte shard by the side of the cottage, and when the door doesn’t immediately open, he ventures outside.

He finds Salena in the middle of the front yard, turning in a slow circle, her lips parted in a small gasp. Her bright eyes sparkle as they take in every detail with wonder.

Striped candy canes and snowmen line the walkway, strings of colorful lights are draped across the eave, and bright ribbons and garland are wrapped around the fence. Seeing it all again past sundown, he feels a little awestruck himself.

“You even dressed up Kali,” she murmurs with a disbelieving laugh looking to her chocobo in the stable. The midnight blue bird, enveloped in a warm sweater and looking like an avian Saint of Nymeia, gives an excited _kweh,_ jumping happily at the recognition. 

Relieved and elated at her expression in equal measure, G’raha takes her hand in his and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Welcome home.” 

She gives him a grin so brilliant warmth blooms in his chest. He reaches out gently and tucks a lock of raven hair behind her ear. “Come inside, my love.”

She follows him across the threshold wordlessly, again looking dazed at everything around her. A fire is crackling in the hearth, and the air is filled with the scent of cinnamon and cloves. Salena drops his hand and slowly turns, admiring the wreaths and baubles adorning the walls. 

“You did all this today?” she asks with wonder in her voice. She walks to the corner of the sitting room gazing up at the Starlight Sentinel shimmering with lights and tinsel and glass ornaments, her favorite chocobo topper sitting proudly on the highest branch. 

“I had some help from Isabelle, honestly.”

“I’ll have to make sure to thank her. And you. It’s been such a long day and I come home to—this,” she says with a vague wave and a giggle. “This is amazing, Raha. I don’t even know how to thank you.” She runs her hand delicately over the ornaments, taking care to notice each one. When she looks below the tree, she grins. “Oh! I’ve got something to add, actually.”

G’raha furrows his brow in confusion as Salena turns to grab her rucksack she had left by the door. She pulls out a large, white cardboard box tied with a red satin ribbon.

She invites him to sit with her in front of the fire and hands him the box with a nervous smile. Sliding off the ribbon, he removes the top and carefully pulls out a polished mahogany lute. “It’s beautiful,” he breathes, running his fingers along the wood delicately, admiring the rich varnish and fine strings.

“I happened to visit the Carpenter’s Guild while I was running around Gridania _fixing decorations_ ,” she huffs with a shake of her head, “and Beatin showed me this latest commission. As luck would have it, the client—who must be utterly mental—changed their mind about buying it. Though in truth I was tempted to nick it and run before I even learned that last detail.”

He pulls his gaze from the instrument to look her in the eye. He had no idea he could be any more besotted. “A gift wasn’t necessary but I am grateful all the same.”

“Well it’s as much a gift to me, really, if I should get to hear you sing,” Salena says softly, with a blush. He leans down and brushes his nose against hers then presses a tender kiss to her lips. To her horror, Salena’s stomach lets out a tremendous growl. “Apologies,” she laughs against his mouth, “I didn’t say anything before but it smells incredible in here.”

“No need to apologize. For once I’m glad you’ve an empty stomach.” He pulls away and grins, setting aside the lute and the box for the time being. He motions for her to sit at the table as he walks into the kitchen. “I have cider on the stove and a Starlight roll cake for dessert,” he calls out and Salena gasps excitedly, placing a hand over her heart, “but first—” He emerges from the kitchen with a woven basket topped with a gingham cloth. “—I made dinner.”

He uncovers the basket to reveal a picnic’s worth of scrumptious sandwiches, aesthetically arranged. Salena lets out a peal of delighted laughter and G’raha smirks with a satisfied swish of his tail. 

“It’s absolutely perfect,” she says and he beams.

*

Warm and fed, the pair sit wrapped up in each other on the sofa in front of the fireplace, Salena’s head on G’raha’s shoulder as he rubs his thumb along her bicep in absent affection, feeling entirely content with the world.

“You know, I actually have one more surprise for you.”

“What more could you possibly do for me, Raha?” she asks, lifting her head to nuzzle her nose against his neck.

“You may have noticed I used all of the decorations you had in storage…”

“Quite,” she snorts. 

“...but you have yet to find the mistletoe,” he says playfully. Salena tightens her arm across his waist and giggles into his shoulder.

“Happy Starlight, my love.”

“Oh,” she hums pressing her lips against his jaw, “Happy Starlight, indeed.”


End file.
